


two headlights shine through the sleepless night

by qiras



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Masturbation, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, let us all pray my mother never finds this either, plotless nasty porn, rey is obsessed with her roommate's hands whatever will happen, this is just porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-06 03:50:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18380381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qiras/pseuds/qiras
Summary: listen, this is not rey's fault. it's not! it is so not her fault that her roommate has the biggest fucking hands she's ever seen. and it is not her fault that she can't stop thinking about them.what happens after that, well. that might be her fault entirely. she pleads the fifth.





	two headlights shine through the sleepless night

**Author's Note:**

> as usual, this is chloe/clara's fault. thanks guys.
> 
> as for how this pwp is nearly 5k words.... i genuinely have no idea. god hates me and thus gave me the inability to stop running my mouth. thanks dude.
> 
> anyway, please don't read this in a church lest god strike us both down, and uh. sorry jesus.

Rey’s roommate has _big_ hands. Like, really big. Just. Huge. Huge fucking hands.

Which, like, shouldn’t matter. At all. Ben is one of her best friends, has been ever since Poe introduced them, like, he just _gets_ her, and they’ve been living together for like six months now, and she really shouldn’t care about the size of his hands or his _anything else_.

Except.

She kind of does.

She kind of does care. A lot.

Not _on purpose_ , but. Well. Sometimes that doesn’t really matter, does it?

It’s not like she’s always noticed the size of his hands, okay? That’s not a thing she normally notices about people. If you asked her what size Rose or Finn’s hands were, she wouldn’t have a fucking clue. (They’re normal? She assumes?) But with Ben? She can’t help but notice.

The first time she noticed how big his hands are, they were grocery shopping. He always insists on going with her because he also likes to insist that she eat something aside from ramen. So Ben buys whatever he was going to buy, and if Rey mentions liking something, he buys twice as much of that. He also has a bad habit of cooking twice as much as is necessary for his dinner and casually mentioning he has extras, would Rey like some?

She knows what he’s doing. Like, he’s not slick, subtlety is not at all the man’s strong point. But Rey is by no means too prideful to accept it-- she also knows Ben isn’t exactly struggling for money, and the one time she did try to argue with him, he was not having it. So hey. He can afford it, and he likes to do things for his friends, Rey’s noticed, so she won’t protest it.

Anyway. They were grocery shopping. It was May, so watermelon was just starting to come into season. Rey’d never had a lot of watermelon or you know, fruits or vegetables or really anything at all, but. She might be willing to commit murder for that really sweet, perfect kind of watermelon, you know?

Not that you could prove that. Rey’s never killed anyone.

She mentioned it to Ben, and before she really knew what was happening, they were standing in from of the watermelon and he was knocking on the watermelon like it was one in the morning and he’d forgotten his keys and his phone and he was trying to get Rey to let him in. He looked up at her and said, “I read somewhere that if they sound hollow, it means they’re ripe,” as an explanation before he returned to knocking on the watermelons.

Finally, he found one that must be sufficiently hollow-sounding, and he shifted his hand to grab a watermelon. With one hand. He picked the fucking watermelon up with one hand. Like, not palming it, but still. Just one hand, cradling that watermelon.

It was then Rey realized how big his hands are.

And since then, she kind of hasn’t been able to _stop_ noticing.

They were in the kitchen and she asked him to hand her her favorite mug, and he looped two fingers through the handle and there would only have barely been space for a third.

He picked up the remote to change the channel, and it fit almost entirely within his fist.

He always drives when they meet up with the rest of their friends, and how had she never noticed the way his hands swallow up the steering wheel?

But noticing the size of his hands and the size of him _in general_ didn't turn into something else until one night in late June, almost July, when she came home from her shift at the diner totally exhausted. She showered and put on shorts and a t-shirt that nearly covered the shorts anyway but it's comfortable before stumbling into the living room, her hair still a wet, ratted mess dripping on her shoulders. She flopped into the couch face first.

“Are you okay?” Ben asked.

Rey gave an indistinct groan in response.

“Plutt being an asshole again?”

“Yeah.” She wasn't about to tell Ben everything Plutt did. Like, she didn't want him to get arrested for assault or anything, and besides, it was nothing she couldn't handle.

“Rey, if you feel uncomfortable around him,” Ben said lowly, quiet and more than a little bit deadly, “I can take care of it.”

“You don’t have to,” she mumbled, speaking half into the couch cushions. “‘M fine.”

Ben stared at her inscrutably for a minute. Rey knew he knew she was lying, but she also knew he knew it meant she didn’t want to talk about it, so he’d leave it alone, which she appreciated. He left the living room and came back not a minute later with a comb and a hair tie.

“Sit up and let me braid your hair,” he said. She gave him a look, and he sighed. “It’ll make you feel better. Come on. Just do it.”

A smile curled at the corners of her mouth and she sat up, her knees bent to her chest and her chin resting on them as he worked through her tangled hair. It felt nice, the way he gently combed out her hair. He was right; this was definitely making her feel better.

Then he cradled her head in his hand, and sparks shot down her spine and electricity crackled through her whole body.

“Look up,” he said, so she did, but she couldn’t really hear him anymore. All she could think about was how good it felt to have any part of her body cradled in his palm and wonder what it would feel like if he did cradle some of those other parts.

And then his fingers were in her hair, separating it into sections and weaving it together, and she was thinking about other things his hands could do. He had really, really big fingers. And he seemed pretty, um... _dexterous_ , too.

Rey held herself perfectly, carefully still, barely daring to breathe until he tied the braid off and slung it over her shoulder.

“Better?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she managed. She took his hand (and Jesus Christ, it could cover hers completely) and squeezed. “Thanks, Ben.”

He looked down at her with something strangely and dangerously soft in his expression. “You’re welcome.”

She excused herself after that to go to bed, but instead of going straight to sleep... She slipped her hand into her panties and rubbed herself until she came, imagining Ben’s hand the whole time.

That was about two months ago. She’d felt more than a little bit guilty and just _weird_ afterward, and she almost couldn’t look Ben in the eyes the next morning, but, well. It hasn’t stopped her from doing it again.

Not often, like, it’s not like she gets off thinking about her roommate-slash-close-friend every night, but sometimes... Sometimes he does something and Rey can feel herself... _react_.

 _Sometimes_ like this morning, which hadn’t even been all that different from other mornings, but Ben was going into his internship and he was already dressed in a suit which was... _yeah_ , and his hair looked really good and really soft, and she was trying to reach something and he stepped behind her and got it for her and she could feel the heat of him against her back and anyway.

The point is, Ben’s already left and she doesn’t have class until one, which is why, since she’s come to the conclusion she’s not going to be able to get any homework done until she takes care of this, she’s laying on her bed with her too-big t-shirt pulled up over her tits and her hand down her shorts.

She cups a breast in one hand and rolls her nipple between her fingers, sighing the littlest bit. Her other hand plays with her folds, just sliding a finger between them.

Usually, when Rey masturbates, she’s in favor of efficiency, just trying to come as quickly as possible. Today, thinking about Ben’s finger sliding through her folds and the way just that would split her open... efficiency doesn’t seem like the route she wants to follow.

Usually, when Rey masturbates, she sticks to outer stimulation. She’s been fingered before, and it always feels really good, but only when someone else does it. Maybe her hands are too small or the angle is just weird, but it doesn’t really feel good to finger herself, so she doesn’t. Today, thinking about how Ben’s fingers would stretch her and stroke inside of her... it’s like she craves something, anything inside of her, she just wants to be filled up so bad.

Usually, when Rey masturbates, she keeps her clothes on as much as possible. She never had her own room growing up, and she never outgrew the impulse to make it as easy as possible to look normal should someone walk in unexpectedly. But today, the waistbands of her shorts and panties are making it difficult to reach inside herself, so, with a frustrated huff, she shoves them down her hips and over her knees, letting them fall around her ankles. She considers for a second, then decides _what the hell_ and kicks them all the way off.

She cups herself and shivers thinking about how _easy_ it would be for Ben to do the same thing. She would easily fit in only the palm of his hand. Rey feels herself growing wetter at the thought. Rey slides her thumb through her folds until she finds her clit, pressing down on it and gasping softly.

His thumb would make her feel spread out all around him, she knows. He would know the right way to touch her, soft and indirect at first so it wouldn’t be too much, and then harder and faster and exactly where she’s most sensitive.

Her middle finger dips inside herself and she whines at the slight stretch. His finger would stretch her so much more. God, it would feel so good to have him inside her like that. She curls her finger up and sighs as she finds that spot inside herself.

Her thumb can’t keep playing with her clit, not like this, not with the way her hand is positioned, or maybe because of the way it stretches-- or really, doesn’t stretch. She isn’t sure. But she is sure that he would be able to. If he were here... Ben’s hands are big enough that he would be able to touch her everywhere, all at once.

And it’s not just that his hands are big, it’s his fingers, too. They’re huge, long and thick, and she’s not sure she could take any more than two inside herself without more careful preparation. She slides two of her own fingers inside herself, the heel of her hand pressing into her clit now. She grinds down onto her own hand, and it feels good, really, really good, but she knows Ben would feel so much better, would fill her up so much more, would stretch her and touch her in ways she can only imagine.

Maybe he’d use his other hand to cup her breast, play with her nipple. Maybe he’s put his hand on her neck. Maybe he’d cup her face--

No. He’s not in love with her. He’s not even attracted to her. What she’s doing is bad enough already. She can’t afford to even imagine the possibility of him being in love with her.

Instead, she thinks about his hands, one with two fingers buried inside her, simultaneously stroking that place on the front of her walls and her clit, and one on her neck, softly rubbing the delicate skin there with his thumb.

He’d probably lean down and kiss her. He’d like the idea of muffling her cries with his mouth, feeling her cry out into him. Ben is intense and passionate and possessive, she can see it in him, and if they were really doing something like this together, she suspects he would be almost greedy for her.

He doesn’t know how to do things halfway.

Rey presses her own thumb against her lips and imagines Ben doing it instead, pressing inside her mouth with just his finger. She would kiss him there before she took it into her mouth, and then he’d drag his spit-slicked thumb down, across her body, across her chest--

Her breath hitches, and she’s alone, so she decides to let go the rest of the way and she lets herself whimper, “Ben...”

The bedroom door creaks but she doesn’t hear it, far too wrapped up in her own mind. She grinds her clit down onto the heel of her hand again, harder, her fingers moving inside herself rapidly, and sighs, “Ben,” again.

“Rey?” a deep voice says, and her eyes are squeezed closed, but she is informed well enough by the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that _that_ had not been her imagination. Her hands still instantly, and she slowly opens her eyes to see _him_ standing there. Because God hates her, she guesses.

“I thought you’d left,” she says weakly, pulling her shirt down over her chest and moving her hand from between her legs, letting it fall onto her bed.

“I forgot something,” he says. His eyes flick back up from where they’d followed the hem of her t-shirt to focus intently on hers, a little darker than usual. “I heard you say my name and the door was open.” He licks his lips. “I thought you’d heard me come in. To the apartment.”

“I... didn’t.”

“Clearly,” he says. His voice is rough. He runs one of those huge fucking hands through his hair and Rey’s cunt clenches down around nothing.

This should be weird. What’s happening now, this should be weird and awkward and so, so uncomfortable. But the look in his eyes makes her feel less awkward and more like she’s about to be devoured in the most enjoyable way.

“What were you doing, Rey?”

She flushes, thighs clenching together. “Isn’t it obvious?”

He takes a step towards her and asks, even more softly, “Were you touching yourself, sweet girl?”

She swallows hard, flushing even more, and nods.

He takes another step toward her. “Were you thinking about me, while you touched your pretty little cunt?”

Her face grows redder still and she bites her lip, nodding again.

“Say it. Out loud, Rey.”

“Yes,” she whispers.

“Yes, what?”

She licks her lips, mouth suddenly dry. “Yes, I was think about you while I...” but she can’t say what he wants her to say, so she settles for, “while I touched myself.”

And Ben knows her, and he can see in her face not to push her further-- she thinks, anyway, but why else would he let it go at that? Because he does. He doesn’t make her say anything else. Instead, he looks at her, drawing closer still, and says, “Do you want me to touch you, pretty girl?”

“Yes,” she chokes out. Her entire body feels like it’s flaming, but that doesn’t matter. Just the idea of his hands on her body has her squirming.

“Show me,” he says, sitting at the foot of her bed. He takes off his suit coat and tosses it somewhere behind him. Then he loosens his tie and unbuttons his sleeves, pushing them up his arms.

“What?” she asks. It’s hard for her to make sense of anything right now, really, but especially when he looks like he’s getting ready to ruin her.

“Show me how you want me to touch you.”

Rey hesitates for a second. Her face is still burning. She feels so exposed, much more exposed than she’d ever been with anyone else before-- but Ben knows her better than anyone else before, too. She sits up and slips her shirt over her head and off, leaving herself completely bared to him. Her eyes dart over to his face.

“Don’t worry, angel. I’ll give you what you want, I promise.” His hand grasps her ankle and he presses a kiss to the inside of her calf. “Just show me how you want it.”

“Okay.” She bites her lip and closes her eyes, and runs her hands down her own body. She tweaks her nipple and sighs, leaning into her palm, before she slips her hand back between her thighs and strokes herself open again. She slides two fingers inside herself and presses her clit against the heel of her hand and gasps.

“You’re so beautiful, Rey, so beautiful like this,” he murmurs. His hand is still on her ankle, a warm, almost comforting weight. “Were you already close when I came home, precious girl?”

“Yeah,” she moans.

“Are you close now, Rey? Gonna come for me?”

The way his hand is wrapped around her ankle is _doing_ things to her. Mostly _reminding-her-what-got-her-in-this-mess-in-the-first-place_ doing things to her. His fingers close all the way around her ankle without any problem, spanning the lower third of her calf, at least.

“Yeah.” She bites her lip and her hand moves faster.

“Stop.”

Her eyes fly open. “What?” she gasps, but her hand has stilled.

“Good girl,” he says, “listening to me like that.” He moves to his knees, his hand circling her wrist. He pulls it from between her legs and sucks her fingers into his mouth. She whimpers. “Wouldn’t you rather come on my fingers, Rey?”

“Yes,” she moans. “God, yes, _please_.” 

“Come here.” He bends his head and sucks a nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the tight bud. She whimpers. He looks up at her with his mouth all pretty and flushed, and he pulls her even tighter against him. “Lay back against your pillows, baby.”

She does, and she lets her legs fall open for him.

“There you go,” he breathes. Ben rubs his hand against her and she whines. His hand is so warm against her wet skin-- and she was right. It’s so easy for her to fit into his hand. Then his finger strokes her folds, opening her up to him, and slides inside her, and she couldn’t help the moan that tears from her throat if she wanted to.

She was right, again. Just his one finger stretches her more than she would have thought possible before this, although she could never have predicted just how good it would feel to have him inside her.

“Good girl,” he whispers, and she cries out when his finger curls just the right way. “What is it, Rey? What do you want? Use your words.” “M-- more,” she manages. “Please, I want more.”

He shushes her, the hand that’s not currently three knuckles deep inside her moving up to stroke her face gently. “I told you, I’m gonna take care of you. Relax.” He leans down and kisses her softly, almost sweetly, almost like...

But then he adds another finger, and Rey really doesn’t have the brainpower to think about the way he kissed her. She bucks her hips into his hand, and he hushes her again, murmuring sweet things in her ear about how he’s gonna take care of her, how beautiful she is, how good she feels around his fingers.

The few boys and girls Rey’s ever fooled around with before did not feel like this. It had felt good, but artless. Neither of them had ever really known what they were doing (though the girls were always, unsurprisingly, better at it), and it had showed. But Ben... Ben knows what he’s doing.

He finds the right spots inside her without any difficulty, carefully watching her reactions and precisely mimicking what he’d done to make her moan or swear. Then his wrist twists and he presses on her clit in some kind of way and Rey cries out, her back arching away from the bed. Her hands find his shoulders and she clings to him, staring into his eyes as she gasps.

“There you go,” he rumbles. “Just like that, huh?”

She nods frantically and he leans down and kisses her again. She can feel him smile against her mouth, and it makes her knees feel even weaker.

And then, she has no idea how he can tell, but Ben asks, “You close, baby? You gonna come for me?”

Her face screws up as she pants and she nods again.

“You wanna be a good girl for me, Rey?”

“Yes,” she sobs.

His fingers find her chin and he tilts her head up. “Open those pretty eyes for me. Good. Now, keep them open when you come, sweet girl. I want to see it.”

Her mouth falls open in a silent scream as she shatters around his hand, but she keeps her eyes open like he told her to. She can’t hear anything as he works her through her orgasm, her legs shaking and her mouth trembling.

“There you go,” Ben is saying. “There you go. You look so perfect when you come, Rey, you’re so beautiful.” He pulls his fingers out of her and she whimpers a little bit at the loss of contact.

For the first time, he seems to lose a little bit of his certainty. His eyes lose a little bit of the hunger, like he’s not sure he should’ve done that. Rey’s not sure she should’ve done that either, but she’s not ready for whatever this is to be over. So she grabs his wrist and brings his fingers to her mouth and licks her own cum off them.

His breath catches. “Shit, Rey.”

“I think it’s your turn.” She gives him a smile that’s caught somewhere between seduction and shyness because this is far bolder than she’s ever been in this kind of situation, but it’s easy. It’s Ben.

“We don’t have to--” His words are choked off when Rey slides her hand over the bulge in his slacks.

“I want to. I want to make you feel good, too.”

He groans. “Trust me, sweetheart, you’ve already done plenty.” 

She doesn’t pay attention to whatever that means, undoing the button and zipper on his pants and sliding her hand inside.

Ben hisses when she grasps his cock. His head falls forward and his eyes slide closed, and Rey’s cunt throbs anew at his reaction. She likes the way he feels in her hand, hot and heavy and hard and soft.

“Is this okay?” she asks.

“God,” he moans, “God yes, Rey.”

“Here,” she says. She takes her hand off him for a moment and pushes his pants down his hips just enough to take his cock out. He’s big. Like, really big. Definitely bigger than anyone Rey’s ever been with before.

And she wasn’t planning on this, she thought she’d just jerk him off or something, but... between the way he looks above her and the way he feels in her hand, she can’t help but want to actually feel him inside her.

She drags the tip of his cock through her soaked folds and Ben whimpers, his hands clutching at her pillows and her sheets. “Do you want...?” she asks.

“Fuck.” He bites his lip. “Fuck, of course I do, but I don’t have any condoms.”

Which is okay. She got checked for STDs a couple months ago and she was fine and she hasn’t had sex since then, plus she’s been on birth control since the first time she even thought about sex. And she thought this might be a possibility. Since she moved in, Ben hasn’t had anyone over, and he hasn’t been sleeping anywhere else, either-- not as far as she could tell.

Rey slides him through her folds again. “I don’t either.”

“Then we should stop,” he says, although he doesn’t make any moves to pull away from her, and he doesn’t really sound very convinced.

“I’m good,” she says, still rubbing against him. “It’s okay. If we don’t have condoms. I don’t, like, _have_ anything.” And he knows she’s on birth control because he’s watched her take her pills at exactly the same time every evening, has driven her to refill her prescription.

It’s strange, the things you learn about people by living together.

“Me either,” he says. Rey doesn’t think he’s breathing. He’s just watching himself move against her. “Rey...” he groans. “Are you sure?”

“I want this,” she tells him. “I’m sure.”

His eyes darken again. He takes his cock in hand and when he pushes inside her, he almost growls into the skin of her neck.

She’s not gonna lie, it’s kind of hot.

And if she thought his fingers stretched her, it’s nothing compared to the way his cock makes her feel. She’s never been so goddamned full in her whole life.

He slides in slowly, watching her reactions carefully. It might have been seconds, but it could have been hours or even years before he’s sunk all the way inside her. Her whole world has narrowed down entirely to the feeling of him inside her. Experimentally, she flexes around him, then rolls her hips.

He groans and drops his face to her neck again. She likes that, likes feeling his breath hot against her skin. “Jesus, Rey,” he pants, “you’re so fucking tight.”

Her fingers comb though his hair and she moans indistinctly. “Move,” she pleads, “please move. I need you to move so bad, _Ben_ \--”

“It’s okay,” he murmurs against her neck as his hips begin to move. “I’ve got you, sweet girl.”

The press of his dress shirt against her bare skin is delicious. She’s not sure if she actually likes the texture of it, or if she likes the image of him, fully clothed, and her, naked. There’s something undeniably hot about it. Though next time, she’d definitely like to see him naked. Fair’s fair.

She brings her legs up and hooks her ankles behind his back, trying to press herself even closer to him. “More,” she demands. He stops and looks at her, clearly concerned. “I’m okay, Ben. I can handle it.” She rolls her hips against his decisively. “More, please.”

He snaps his hips into hers, harder, faster. “Such a good little girl,” he growls. “Look at you, look at that pretty little cunt. You take me so well.” 

“Ben,” she moans, “please, I wanna come again.”

“Such a greedy little girl,” he says, not changing his pace in the slightest, “wanting to come again already.” One of his hands moves down and rubs her clit. “But you’ve been such a good girl, I think you deserve a reward.”

“Yes yes yes thank you thank you thank you,” she babbles, almost chanting. “Oh, God, yes, Ben!” she cries out as she comes again, clenching around his cock.

“Fuck.” He pulls out of her, stroking himself. She lays back on her pillows, looking up at him with a half-smile curving her lips. “Fuck, baby,” he says, “tell me where I can come.”

“Wherever you want,” she says lazily, casually.

“Your tits, pretty girl?” he asks. “Can I come on your tits?”

“Mmm.” She bites her lip, warmth rushing through her at the idea. She’s never had someone do that before, but she’s always thought it seemed like it could be hot. “Yes, please.”

He crawls just a little further up her body until he has one knee on either side of her chest. Rey looks up at him, only to find his eyes staring into hers. She smiles, and pushes her tits together, and watches as he falls apart above her, hot cum splashing onto her chest.

Rey has wondered what Ben would taste like for longer than she cares to admit, so she can’t help herself; she runs two fingers through the mess covering her tits and sucks them into her mouth. He tastes pretty good, really, all things considered, still that kind of salty, almost ocean-water taste, but somehow, it’s more pleasant coming from him.

He’s still looking down at her with that same intense, hungry look in his eyes, and as she watches him, he reaches down and places a hand on her chest, rubbing his cum into her skin.

Her breath catches. She’d never even thought of this before, but _fuck_ , if it isn’t strangely hot. It’s like he’s marking her.

Rey finds she doesn’t mind that idea.

Ben collapses next to her in her little bed that’s only barely big enough to fit the both of him. His one hand is still messy, but that’s not a problem. Rey wipes it across her stomach, and uses her mouth to clean the rest of it. He goes to pull her in close to him, heedless of the cum still decorating her skin, but she stops him.

“You’ll ruin your shirt,” she says.

Ben considers this for a second, then strips off his shirt. “Problem solved,” he says, hauling her against him.

“Ben...” She turns her head, resting it comfortably against his shoulder. “We need to get cleaned up. I do, anyway.”

“In a minute,” he mumbles. His face is very much buried in her hair, and he shows no intention of moving.

“You have your internship. You’re going to be late. Ben--”

He does move when she says that, but only enough to look at her. “If you don’t mind,” he says, “I think I’m gonna call in sick.”

She smiles. “So we could... maybe do that again?”

“Oh, _definitely_.”

“In that case,” she taps his cheek with the tip of her finger, “you, Benjamin Solo, are very, very sick.”

He grins at her and nips at her finger playfully. “May I never recover.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!! i hope you didn't read this in a place of worship and catch fire but please don't sue me if you did!!
> 
> come say hi on [twitter](https://twitter.com/lizzysbennet)!


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